Florida? Today?
Is that work? Yeah.
Hot, fun, Miami, Florida or sticky,
you know, swampy Florida?
Yeah. Your welcome.
What's going on in Florida?
Wait a second, what flight?
Hold on a second, I can't hear you.
Enough with the song already, all right?!
I'm doing business here. Deal with it!
Hold on for a second.
Wait, now my pen's out of ink.
here
You know, hold on, you know.
I can't hear anything!
The kids love the music.
Well, I don't see any kids.
The music attracts them!
Why didn't you say the Everglades?
Look, I can't hear anything because of this insane music!
You shot my clown!
Okay, flight number?
Okay. Thanks.
Okay, we're all set.
That was not good.
I thought you said you'd be down on the next flight.
I haven't met with the shrink yet.
What shrink?
Oh, the department psychiatrist has to sign a piece of paper saying,
you know, that I'm not nuts before I get my gun back.
So I got an appointment tomorrow.
Great.
Now I have to break in this Agent Sullivan.
Wait, wait, Sully's a great guy.
Okay? And for your information, you never broke me in.
I think that's him.
Okay, I'll talk to you later.
Dr. Brennan?
Agent Sullivan?
Uh-huh.
Name's Eugene.
Oh, okay, Eugene.
No, not me, I'm Sully- short for Sullivan.
Well, then, who's Eugene?
Eugene's been king of this swamp for as long as I can remember.
Broke my heart to have to shoot him.
Is there an actual human victim?
Inside Eugene.
He ate somebody?
Damn spring-breakers think it's a real kick
to come down here and drink beer with the big fellow.
I just chased off a bunch of them, and there was Eugene
in the middle of the swamp, gulping down somebody's arm.
Someone from the group of kids you chased off?
No, no.
Gator's don't eat fresh kills.
They drown their prey, then they stuff it down underwater
to tenderize for a few weeks before they can eat them.
Okay, why don't you drag the rest of the swamp for any additional remains.
I'll check Fort Lauderdale missing persons.
You, start cutting. No.
Well... isn't that what you do?
Any potential remains are far too sensitive to be retrieved here.
Okay, well, where do you suggest?
My lab at the Jeffersonian.
The whole gator?
I'll handle transport.
You're gonna need a big crate.
And a lot of ice.
Okeydoke.
Well, if you're doing this,
then there's a boat for sale
that I'd like to check out.
A boat?
Booth helps.
Because Booth can't relax.
There's something metal in here.
Don't you have a boat to buy?
www. 1000fr. com present
Capture:FRM@MAOREN Sync:FRM@Uranus
I knew it was a gator, Brennan told me it was a gator,
and yet... wow.
Definitely confirms one thing:
We have the coolest jobs ever.
Look at all these teeth.
Step away, please.
There are 80 in total.
Note the conical shape.
"Step away, please"?
Just because you have a doctorate now,
does not mean I won't use you as a swizzle stick.
Animal foot, possibly a rabbit.
Not so lucky for either of them.
Frog.
Yummy.
Do I hear music?
Hey, I liked that song.
What do you think, Zack?
Definitely a human foot.
Lovely.
Dr. Wyatt.
Ah, Agent Booth, is it?
Yes. Gordon. Gordon Wyatt.
Right, you the shrink?
Shrink, yes, meaning, uh, psychiatrist.
That's great, doc. How's about you, uh,
just sign my piece of paper here,
and I'll get back to work, all right?
Certainly. No, no, I have a pen.
Um, do you mind if I ask what exactly it was that you did?
Yeah, I shot a truck.
Ah, full of terrorists, no doubt,
or plutonium or fleeing felons, was it?
Nah, it was an ice cream truck.
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Yeah, the music, it was bothering me.
Ah.
Yeah, there was a speaker in a clown's mouth.
Yeah, I just pulled out my gun, you know, and...
Gone.
So the FBI sent you to me because you shot a clown?
Not a real clown.
I suggest you cogitate on the underlying reasons
you shot that clown while I make us some tea.
Cogitate?
Tea?
The depth of these bite marks...
very impressive.
One torn pair of jeans.
One red linen blouse,
size two.
And one platform wedge.
Made it all the way to the lower intestine.
Florida FBI just beamed over names of recent missing persons.
We'll need dental records.
Sully. Cam.
Look at you, in charge of Moon Base Alpha here.
And you're still a G-man.
What happened to that restaurant you were gonna open?
Or was it a... petting zoo?
Well, I'm keeping myself open for the perfect opportunity.
I tried out a beautiful boat in Florida.
But he made it back to shore.
Victim is female, in her late teens,
eliminating three of your missing persons right here.
So cause of death?
For the gator?
We have these. 45 caliber slugs.
Okeydoke.
Well, um...
I am gonna go grab a slice,
so give me a call when you got an ID.
Her name's Judy Dowd.
Shouldn't you at least look at the X-rays before deciding that?
Says right here
she had surgery to repair a cleft palate at age two.
The bone graft is here.
She was a freshman at Virginia State.
Reported missing three weeks ago.
An alligator?
Oh, my...
When did you last see your daughter, Mr. Dowd?
The day she left with her friend
for spring break.
Her friend, uh...
Abigail Sims?
Abby.
Good kid.
I never should've let her go.
We found this among the remains.
This was her mother's.
Lainie died
when Judes was 11.
It's just been the two of us ever since.
Did you get any calls from her while she was there?
Every day.
Any sign that she was in trouble?
No.
She...
She sounded happy.
So happy.
You are really English.
Oh, I don't know, I think I've assimilated quite well.
Typical American house, right down to the white picket fence,
truck that's the, uh- what is it?- the heartbeat of America.
But tea, tea is
sacrosanct, thank you very much.
Me, I'm a coffee drinker. Listen, pal...
You know, in an effort to understand your culture better,
I've been trying to embrace this very American practice
of preparing meat in the garden.
Barbeque.
Mm, it's a delightful word, isn't it?
"Barbeque. "
I think it's from the Caribbean, barabicu,
which means a sort of sacred fire pit.
Did you know that the Latin for "hearth" though is "focus. "
Isn't that revealing?
It's quite literally the focal point of every household.
The hearth, the heart. Huh?
I told the ice cream guy I was sorry, all right?
I even bought him a new clown head.
So just sign the paper.
I must apologize,
but I've got to go off and get some ingredients for my mortar.
Um, why don't we reschedule?
We can't reschedule, all right?
I got to get back to work!
Oh.
Well, in that case, um,
why not finish off preparing this area here?
Could you do that?
All the specifications are on the plans.
You are fit for physical labor, aren't you?
I mean, the clown didn't return fire, did it?
Well, what if I said that the plastic clown did fire back, huh?
Brilliant.
Now, while I'm gone, what I want you to do
is to consider what you were really aiming at
when you drew a bead on that unfortunate clown.
Hey, buddy,
when I aim at something,
I hit it.
Precisely.
Anyway, I shan't be long, Agent.
It's all on the plans here.
I'll be back before long, Agent.
See you then.
Do help yourself to more tea, by the way.
Like I told the police,
me and Judy were just doing the usual spring break stuff.
The whole night was kind of a blur
until I woke up the next morning at the hotel
and Judy wasn't there.
She hadn't come back with you?
I can't remember.
So why didn't you report it to someone till later that night?
I thought maybe she'd hooked up.
Hooked up?
With anyone in particular?
We met so many guys.
You know how it is.
I'm guessing that she doesn't.
Do you have any pictures from that night, Abby?
No. The police took most of them.
Wait, most of them?
There's a couple on my personal Web page
I didn't want them showing poor Mr. Dowd.
Judy would never want him seeing her like that.
Like... what?
Here's the spectrophotometric evaluation on Judy Dowd.
Any results yet on her tox screen?
No drugs, but her blood- alcohol was sky high.
Point one-one, and...
Oh, dear.
What?
SPM reveals hidden hematomas in decomped tissue.
See this shaded area here?
It indicates bruising to her vaginal wall.
Meaning Judy was raped?
Or at the very least, subjected to some extremely unpleasant college sex.
With one of these fine lads?
Without DNA, it's the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Wait.
Our victim was an HSB?
Excuse me?
Hotty-Student-Body. com.
It's this website that gets drunk college girls
from all over the East Coast to take their clothes off.
I clicked on a pop-up, got caught in a pornado.
Oh, splendid.
So, was it your father who taught you to read plans?
Wrong tree, Doc, okay? Dad and I were tight.
Only, it's just that earlier you said
you weren't used to drinking tea with men,
which suggests to me that you are usually pretty rigid
in your assignment of gender roles.
What? No, no, m-m-my partner's a woman, okay?
A woman who needs my help.
Ah, but are you currently involved with anyone?
I just broke up with someone, okay?
Me. And I ended it.
And how long had you been involved with her?
Or, or him?
Her. Let's get that straight, okay? Her.
Couple months this time.
This time?
We'd gone on- we'd gone out b- before a, a few years ago,
and, uh, you know,
we, uh, I broke it up when, uh,
you know, my ex wanted to give it another go.
Complicated.
Ah... that's it!
I shot the clown because I can't let go of the women in my life.
Ha! Thanks, Doc.
All right, now I can go back to work,
and you can sign the paper.
Excellent theory, but quite wrong.
And... we're out of time.
Tomorrow all right for you?
I tried.
We found a stab wound.
Let's see it.
It's more of a puncture really
hidden here among the bite marks just below her scapula.
Angela doesn't like me being her superior.
Because you're acting superior.
Which is what a superior is.
Don't be a horse's ass.
She's your friend; that's all that matters.
These ridge marks inside the wound look like the threads of a screw.
We're trying to ID the weapon.
Well, at the very least,
it proves that Judy didn't stumble into the swamp and feed herself to Eugene.
That was my conclusion as well.
Okay.
And the hits keep coming.
Seems Judy Dowd was raped and murdered.
No more rough college sex?
Now that we know it's a murder,
I'm feeling a lot less charitable.
What is all this? Have a look.
Hotty Body rule...!
It was shot in Fort Lauderdale the same night Judy disappeared.
Who's that?
His name is Monte Gold,
internet kingpin and aspiring Hugh Hefner.
Monte has made millions off of this site.
He also paid out a million in fines last year
for filming underage girls.
Monte Gold?
Uh-oh, grown-ups with badges.
Lloyd!
Hi, I'm, uh, Monte's producer, Lloyd.
We've got, uh, shooting permits and signed waivers.
You know this girl?
She's on your Web site.
Yeah, and a thousand more like her.
Might as well ask a Chinese guy to remember a grain of rice.
She's not a grain of rice, sport.
She's dead.
Eddie, off! Cameras off!
Go away, babies, come on, shoo, let's go.
What do you mean dead?
Her name's Judy Dowd.
We found her in Florida raped, murdered and fed to an alligator.
And she's posted on my Web site?
Lloyd, do you know about this?
How would I know? Get her off now, Lloyd.
Now! Go! Right, right.
Did you say an alligator?
We never would have posted her if we knew.
Monte is insanely careful. Not always, from what I hear.
But he learns from his mistakes.
Now, every ID, triple-checked for 18
before any girl signs the waiver.
Idiot!
You let her on my bus?
I didn't want to be rude, Monte.
Off the bus. Your boyfriend has no warrant.
You know, anthropologically speaking,
you follow a very ancient tradition.
Okay.
Entrepreneur?
Pimp.
Class is over.
Off the bus.
Here you go.
Follow His path, learn His word.
You, too, follow His path, learn His word.
Uh-oh, there it is!
Another misguided waif tumbles from the Devil's sin-mobile.
Excuse me? Uh, no, uh,
she's with me. Why are you winking?
I'm not with- h- he's with me.
This is Isaac.
Isaac's with the Church of the High Calling way down in Eldon, Kansas.
Yeah, but let me tell you something,
there is no distance too great
to dissuade these lost young women
from the grips of Monte Gold's carnal temptation.
Looks like you plan on saving a lot of souls.
Women like this?
Oh.
Uh-oh.
Who is she?
Huh, what did Monte do to her?
Give it a rest, Isaac.
Monte, hey, hey, remember me?
I'm Alan; I sent you, uh, my résum?
Not now, man.
Hey, hey, look, I'm, I'm a great webmaster.
Another sinner about to throw hisself into Satan's hellfire.
Shut up, freak!
Hey, hey, you come back, I call the cops.
Get him out of here.
You'll never work for me, pal.
Has God even fed you today, Isaac?
Okay, let's get you a sandwich, Isaac.
Eddie, make the preacher some food, will you?
What?
The wing nuts come with the territory.
Okay, let's quit playing games.
What is it you want to know?
Fort Lauderdale.
Lauderdale was Lauderdale.
Partied that night,
gave some willing girls their 15 minutes of fame,
and, uh, headed out to Daytona for the next day's gig.
Any girls ride with you?
Much as I hate to disappoint you, uh,
the fact is I'm not "entertaining" like I used to.
Ah, getting too old to exploit little drunk girls?
You seen the videos? They exploit themselves.
Ready to roll when you are, Monte.
Now they all want to be a Hotty Body. Walk into a place
and the shirts fly off, making what used to be a rush kind of,
I don't know, mundane.
Because you objectify them.
You never see what makes them human.
Man, you have to spend all day with her?
Yeah, an actual woman.
You ought to try it sometime.
Video's off the site, there's a copy of the girl's waiver.
You know, I think I, uh, think I remember this girl. You do?
Yeah, you remember, Lloyd.
We were leaving the Lauderdale gig and you made a joke
about the bouncer swapping spit with that girl?
That was this girl?
Pretty sure.
Oh, she was hot.
Passed the two of them playing tonsil hockey in the doorway.
That bouncer was a big dude, too.
And it's me you're harassing?
Let's go, Eddie.
This waiver is a joke.
I mean, look at Judy's signature.
She could barely hold a pen.
Well, Florida Bureau's gonna scoop up this bouncer and call me back.
We need to get back in that bus.
We need cause for a warrant.
You tell Mario that he is still an artist.
What is that?
Mm.
Only the finest sausage and peppers on Earth.
Someday, I'm gonna turn it into a franchise.
You want a bite?
I, I thought you were buying a boat.
I am.
Maybe I'll start a charter service.
I can serve these to the passengers.
You know? In Jamaica.
Good. Mm, the word is great.
Or maybe I'll manage a band, you know?
They could play on the boat, too.
So you don't, you don't like being an FBI agent?
Oh, sure, I-I do.
I just don't want it to be the only thing I ever was.
You're telling me you're just going to be a bone lady your whole life?
I've spent years studying anthropology.
Well, I got a degree,
but I'm not going to let it ruin my life.
I'm going back to the lab.
Mm, here.
Take one of these with you back to that spaceship.
I'll call you when, uh, we get our bouncer.
Ah, Jamaica.
I can dig it, mon.
Oh. Hi.
Um, do we have a scheduled...
Uh, listen, I really need to get back to work,
so why don't you give me one of those clown restraining orders
and just sign my paper.
Have you had an insight, then,
as to why you shot at that clown? Yeah.
You know, I have something to say.
It's right here. That's my...
Bones calling, huh, my partner.
Right? Yeah, Bones.
So when are you coming back again?
What, aren't you playing nice with Sully?
I'm just not sure how serious he is about his job.
Oh, look, he's one of the best, all right?
He just likes to keep his options open.
I've noticed.
Listen, Bones, Sully,
he, uh, lost his partner about, uh, a year ago, all right?
Something like that happens, you just,
you hear that clock on the inside
ticking just a little bit louder.
So, uh, you know, you're in good hands.
Here he comes, so I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go.
All right, so maybe I am a little irritable.
Why do you think that might be?
Come on, look, don't they give you, like, papers and files and reports?
All right, um...
Me and my partner caught up to this serial killer
by the name of Howard Epps, and he died.
And whose fault was that Yours or your partner's?
He jumped over that balcony because of her.
Sometimes I think he had the right idea.
And where were you when Mr. Epps fell?
Holding his arm.
No, that was before he fell, surely.
What?
Well, Mr. Epps was dangling from your arm before he fell,
at which point he was no longer dangling but falling. Attached to you,
he was alive; no longer attached, dead.
I don't feel guilty about that.
I mean, Epps was a serial killer.
He tried to kill my partner
and he threatened my son- I was glad when he hit that pavement.
Do you think about suicide often?
Suicide?
Me?
No, no, never.
And yet you sometimes feel that Howard Epps had the right idea
about jumping off that balcony?
It was a joke, okay?
It was a joke.
Yes... you do that a lot, don't you?
And it makes me feel such a bully for prying.
We'll pick up on that next time.
Increase magnification.
Please.
If you're ready.
I don't mean to appear dictatorial,
I just... I get it, Zack.
Hey. So what are we looking at?
Bits of gold foil imbedded deep within bite marks along the T-11 and T-12 vertebrae.
Jewelry?
More likely scenario has the gator's teeth piercing Judy's stomach.
Embedding whatever she last ingested into her bone?
How would someone eat gold?
Not eat.
Drink.
Goldenrod.
Goldenrod?
It's this hundred-proof cinnamon schnapps we drank in college.
It's infused with real gold flakes, purely for decadence sake.
How did it taste?
Uh, it's way worse coming up, I can tell you that.
She could've wandered into bars we don't know about.
If we can find the every place that carries that stuff...
I don't think we'll need to, Doc.
We've got our bouncer.
Of course, he denies all, but his alibi just about buries him.
Buries him how?
Well, he said he left work early that night to get to his other job:
Giving Midnight Swamp Tours on his boat.
Sounds like a good job actually.
So he's admitted to knowing the Everglades like the back of his hand?
Which would not be smart if he were in fact the killer.
Well, most of the killers I know aren't all that smart.
The gold flakes are definitely from the liquor we found in her system.
And I remembered something.
Monte and his harem, so what?
Check out the caption:
"All the girls love Monte's Gold. "
Now granted, there's plenty of bars
that carry this stuff but...
But this could be the probable cause we need to search Monte's bus.
I'll get the warrant.
The bouncer's alibi checked out.
So Monte's minions were likely just trying to throw us off.
Unbelievable, you people.
What is it now? Hey, hey.
Cool your jets, Hef.
We just wanna search your bus.
This is you, isn't it?
Please don't point your finger at me.
I knew the first time I saw you.
Here comes another feminist crusader out to spoil some good all-American fun!
Ow, get off, get off!
Self-defense, he assaulted me.
Yes, he did.
Crazy bitch, I'm calling my lawyer.
Here, you can read him this.
Now I just hope we find something.
There.
That's not exactly a smoking gun.
Can you prove she drank it here?
I can try.
Okay, you can only admit evidence that's in plain view.
Although, on this bus, that could be DNA.
On virtually any surface.
That's an image.
Keep your eyes open for a metal screw-threaded thingy.
A what now?
Judy's stab wound was probably
from a bolt of some kind right through here.
Oh, just inside her scapula.
Yes, but...
most laymen refer to it as a shoulder blade.
Well, I told you I went to college.
I minored in kinesiology.
Although this is the first time I've used it to impress a lady.
What was your major?
Art History.
Um, I also got a Master's certificate in sailing, a pilot's license,
and I'm a certified EMT.
There's more, but I don't wanna brag.
Hold on.
Hi, Hodgins.
Judy Dowd wasn't killed at the swamp where she was found.
Cryptosporidium on her clothes came from saw grass,
a plant that doesn't even grow in Eugene's swamp.
Where does it grow?
Pretty much everywhere else in the Everglades,
but in terms of gator distance,
there's a saw grass marsh two miles south,
where Alligator Alley meets State Road 29.
All that from cryptosporidium?
Did I not mention the fresh asphalt in Judy's shoe?
That intersection was just repaved about a month ago.
Very Interesting.
Thanks, Hodgins.
Hmm, what's interesting?
Ms. Montenegro?
I'm Bill Dowd, Judy's father.
Oh.
Hi.
Um, I'm sorry.
How do you know me?
The FBI told me that the Jeffersonian was investigating Judy's murder.
I read your team's biographies online,
saw your picture.
And followed me here?
I'm sorry, I know how that must look,
but I just...
need answers.
I need to know who killed my daughter.
I'm sorry, Mr. Dowd, there's nothing I can tell you.
I already know about the website.
And this Monte Gold son of a bitch.
The FBI told you about that?
Buddy from my job found the video.
He thought I'd be embarrassed,
but all I care about is what happened next.
Did this guy kill her?
I really can't discuss the case.
The way he was pawing at my girl on that video,
he's gotta be a suspect.
At, at this point, Mr. Dowd,
there are a lot of suspects.
But not many like him.
I mean, do you trust him?
Do you think he's a good man?
No.
Of course not.
I find him repulsive.
Please, I just gotta know.
Was it him?
I'm very sorry about your daughter, Mr. Dowd.
There's nothing I can say.
I understand.
I shouldn't have put you on the spot.
I'm sorry.
You lied about the bouncer, Eddie.
What?
The bouncer in Lauderdale? You never saw him kissing
Judy Dowd the night she went missing.
Really?
I was sure it was them.
Hey, you drive the bus, too, don't you?
Yeah, so?
So you drove out of Lauderdale,
straight up the 95 to Daytona?
Is that what Monte said?
Yeah, straight up 95.
You sure about that?
Oh, no, uh, that's right there was, uh, construction.
We got detoured cross state on 75.
Right, 75.
Isn't that Alligator Alley?
Yeah.
Come on, Eddie, a girl is dead.
We didn't kill her.
But she was on your bus.
She had a few drinks.
You have sex with her?
No.
No way. I was driving.
While Monte had sex with her?
I guess.
You guess? Was... was it consensual?
All I know is she was drunk.
All right, really drunk.
And when Monte got done with her,
she came up by me, wanted to get off the bus.
Eddie, don't say anything!
Where were you in all this?
Lloyd drives in front of us.
It was just me and Monte on the bus. Shut up, Eddie.
Monte's lawyer says we don't have to talk to anybody until he gets here.
He has nothing to worry about.
No one's under arrest.
Why'd you let her off the bus, Eddie?
I didn't want to.
It was really dark.
She could barely stand up.
Then Monte wanted her off.
He was pissed off, she was crying...
Eddie. He was gonna fire me if I didn't.
We owe Monte a lot, okay?
The guy's been really good to us.
And we knew that none of us killed her.
Well, if you let her off
the bus in the middle of nowhere in that condition, you may as well have.
Look, when Eddie told me where she got off the bus,
I went back there and looked for her.
I must have driven that road for an hour.
I figured she hitched a ride back.
You figured. He figured.
Maybe Monte made a bad call in letting the girl off,
but she wanted off.
So he was just doing what she asked.
Except for the sex part.
You know what? You you can't prove that.
I wouldn't bet against her.
So, is Monte still in his office?
No.
He had an appointment back at the Iguana Club up in Maryland.
Okay.
You know what?
I'm in America, we're men,
let's drink coffee, not tea, hey?
Oh, I say,
doing a marvelous job.
Thank you.
That's not coffee.
Ah. What is it? I don't know
what the hell it is but it sure as hell isn't coffee, doc.
You tend to do things well, don't you?
Make coffee. Build barbecue machines.
It's not really a "machine. "
Solve crimes, raise a son, love women. Leave women.
Whatever you aim at, you hit.
Is that bad?
By no means, no,of course not, except...
Oh, okay, here we go.
Let me have it, doc.
Except it is indicative of a need to control your environment.
Again I ask, uh, is that bad?
No, of course not, no.
Except... Except?
Except when you shoot a clown.
You know, you make it sound like he was walking around making balloon animals.
For the most part, your rebellions are small.
rebellions?
The colorful socks, the funky belt buckles.
They're a mechanism.
Quiet rebellions.
Your way of asserting your personal control over a homogenizing organization
like the FBI.
But shooting a clown is not a quiet rebellion.
Shooting a clown is literally quite deafening.
Booth. Hey, it's me.
Yeah, hold on for a second, wait why is it, doc,
every time I answer the phone you walk away?
Why do you answer the phone knowing it'll make me walk away?
Yeah, you know what, Bones, I gotta call you back.
Is Sully for real?
What?
I just can't decide whether or not to take him seriously.
Why was he acting unprofessional?
No, he's, he's very professional, it's just...
can he really do all he says he can do?
Oh, you mean that whole master C=carpentry thing?
Yeah, well, you know what, he, uh, made me a dining room set last year.
He's a carpenter, as well?
As well as what?
That's... Sully calling right now.
We're, um,...
we're doing, you know,
what we did.
Oh, you know, I'll be back soon.
Okay.
I'll talk to you later.
So maybe Monte can tell us
why he left the girl on the side of the road.
Hey, there's a store for rent.
Sausage and pepper shop?
That's funny.
Take my lead.
I know what I'm doing, didn't Booth tell you?
Yeah.
Take my lead.
Wait, wait, wait.
That's his car.
?ood outside his club.
It's the last thing you said to Monte, Isaac.
"His judgment cometh and that right soon. "
It's not even a Bible verse, the judgment thing.
It's a line from Shawshank.
Who's that?
Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.
Look, if Monte's wicked deeds cost him his life, it was the work of a hand
far mightier than my own.
And where exactly have your hands been the last five hours?
Working on my truck- I got garage receipts to prove it.
Hey, Angela, what's up?
Hey, I, uh...
I think that you might have the wrong man.
What do you mean?
I made a mistake, Brennan.
I only wanted to scare him.
I didn't go there to kill him.
But what he said...
three words.
He only said three words in his defense.
"She wanted it. "
She didn't, Mr. Dowd.
That much we do know.
Is there anyone you want to call, sir?
No.
There isn't anybody.
There was Judy.
Just Judy.
So this is the culprit, huh?
Result of your metal screw-headed thingy?
Zack managed to identify this bone bruise.
Across posteriors six thru eight.
Show off.
Okay, I've got my weapons list and visual aids,
courtesy of Angela.
Now, we know the wound was caused
by a blunt steel dowel with screw threads at the top.
Bruising around her is the rough size and shape of a harmonica.
Now theoretically, the head of the weapon struck,
leaving the bruising, but then broke.
Allowing the steel dowel beneath to be driven into Judy's back.
So possible weapons include...
a shovel handle with steel shaft.
A golfer's wooden putter with aluminum shaft.
Okay, a gear shifter?
That's an alloy gear shifter with a grip-shaped handle.
This doesn't look like it could cause the injury.
Unless it didn't have a handle.
Yeah, though she'd probably not have been killed standing up.
She'd have to be thrown down, and then impaled.
Preacher man had one of these in his truck.
With a tennis ball where the handle should have been.
Hiding the exposed threads underneath.
And he follows Monte everywhere.
Don't let us interrupt you, Isaac.
I was praying for His guidance
in bringing an end to this harassment.
Yeah, well he can't answer them all, can He?
Where were you headed?
Home, if that's any of your business.
Back to your church, huh?
I gotta tell you, I wish I'd called them sooner about you.
You did this? You called them?
Yeah, are you sure you weren't headed back to Florida?
Stop along Alligator Alley? Make sure you left nothing behind.
I don't even know what are you talking about.
Well, apparently your church kicked your hypocritical ass out last year.
Something about you hitting on young female parishioners.
Who- who told you this, huh?
Hey, you can't get in there!
A tennis ball for a gear shifter.
Huh.
Turn around, Isaac. All right.
Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.
Yeah, well what we do know is that Judy Dowd was left drunk and stumbling on Route 75.
And you, following Monte's bus,pulled over to give her a ride.
Not a free one apparently.
No, no, that's a lie. I never even saw her.
Oh, so this isn't her blood here?
It's someone's blood.
How many of Monte's cast-offs have you been with, Isaac?
Huh? Girl's too drunk to know. Before you picked up Judy.
You went for it. She rejected you.
Next thing you know she's impaled on the shifter.
I may have picked her up,
but if I laid a hand, it was to heal,
and to ask His redemption upon her.
Man, you are shameless.
She was drunk. She went crazy.
Pushed me away and fell back.
It was an accident.
You know, the Devil's work.
No, not, that was the part where you fed her to an alligator.
There should be a sense of satisfaction after solving a case, but...
most of the time I just...
I feel drained.
Yeah, that's why you can only do this job for so long.
Murders, death, corpses...
you do that your whole life...
There's gotta be more, you know?
The sausage and pepper sandwich.
You gotta admit it was good.
So what do you and Booth usually do now?
Is there a bar you go to? A restaurant?Pilates class?
There's a diner.
Booth says the pie is the best.
Can I buy you a slice?
Sure.
I guess we're not working together anymore.
Yes.
And since we have no professional obligations to each other, I can ask you out.
Theoretically.
Theoretically
Perhaps after a 24 hour waiting period.
Why?
So the brain can adjust to alternate perceptions of each other.
I don't actually need it.
My brain adjusts quite quickly.
Oh, my good Lord.
How many bricks did you use in the end?
Yep, you know, 180.
Right, so you can go sign away.
What are those?
Oh, those are two beautiful prime rib eye steaks.
All right, being the barbeque master that I am,
I thought I'd show you how to barbeque, doc.
Oh, I don't want to be shown.
I want to learn by trial and error.
No, no, no, doc. Come on, listen,
it's better learn off hamburger or sausages.
Those puppies cost 50 bucks a pop.
You know, according to the FBI reports,
there was no way you could save Epps' life.
Your partner's report says the same thing.
An FBI sniper on the opposite roof saw everything through his scope.
According to all witnesses,
you have nothing to feel guilty about.
Yeah, so?
So why in a fit of pique did you endanger innocent people in a public thoroughfare
by discharging your firearm?
I'm a good shot.
I didn't put anybody in danger.
How many people have you killed?
I lost count.
Oh, you can remember 180 bricks,
but not how many lives you've taken?
Epps makes 50.
50 what?
50 kills.
But, Agent Booth, you didn't kill Epps.
You tried to save him, remember?
Or perhaps I'd better put it as a question?
Did Howard Epps slip from your grasp
or did you release him?
Oh, come now, man, it's a simple enough question.
Was he indeed your 50th kill
or did you just happen to be there when he died?
I...
I don't know.
A man like you in control of every situation
and you don't know?
I don't know.
I had him and then I lost him and...
something happened in between.
I don't know.
I believe you.
Because for a man like you to admit
you don't know, to relinquish control,
that could argue a disruption
in your self-view that was large enough
to motivate you to shoot a clown.
You know, I think we made marvelous progress.
This is a place for which we can certainly begin.
You know what?
I've changed my mind.
I would love you to cook those steaks.
I can do that.
Medium rare please, Mr. G-Man.
I can do that.
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